


Mutual

by magdalenelaundry



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Other, PWP, Pining, Pre-Canon, Trans Rhys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2741429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magdalenelaundry/pseuds/magdalenelaundry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm a little in love with episode 1 of Tales From the Borderlands, and I'm a whole lot in love with these Hyperion dorks. I asked for (and received a bunch of) prompts for them on my tumblr, and one really stuck in my craw until I had to finish it so here it be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a little self-indulgent porn. Rhys is DFAB trans in this one, and it involves penetrative unprotected sex so please be forewarned.

"Okay, so-"

Vaughn has been friends with Rhys for 3 years. The first wet dream was maybe a month into that, bewildering and more than a little embarrassing; he hadn’t done that since he was a teenager, and he’d woken up alone in his apartment, gasping and sticky. He tried his best to keep the infatuation to a minimum, to keep his head down, to not fuck his whole career up getting crazy over a co-worker. He was happy enough just to be friends, and he didn’t want to fuck that up either, because if he was being honest this was maybe the only thing in his life he didn’t hate.

Rhys has been friends with Vaughn for 3 years. A month and a half later he catches himself thinking about the way his facial hair would feel. A week after that he tosses and turns in bed until he finally gives up, fishes his vibrator out of the dresser drawer, and jerks off until he’s sore. He definitely doesn’t do that every other night for a while, and he definitely doesn’t make things weird. He just wants to ignore it, because it would be better for everyone until he’s (or, ideally, _they’re_ ) in a better position in this hellhole.

As seemingly different as they are, they find an easy trust with each other that’s rare in the viper pit they work in. Rhys puts up a valiant front but at his core he’s as big a dork as his outwardly-dorky co-worker, and Vaughn is tougher and more fun than he looks. And great at karaoke, it turns out. They start hanging out a lot at work, then outside of work. Most of their evenings are spent playing video games in Vaughn’s apartment, or drinking at Rhys’s. They naturally fall into each others’ orbit, and they both, without the other realizing, stash away the idea of changing such a comfortable dynamic.

Until.

Until 3 years later and they know everything about each other, and they’re sitting in Rhys’s apartment, and they’ve run out of work shit to bitch about, and there’s for once, an uncomfortable silence. Their faces are too close, until they aren’t, because gradually the gap is closed and they’re kissing. It’s dry, glancing, careful, so someone can play it off as a dumb drunk mistake, despite the fact that they’ve barely started drinking. They give each other the chance to do just that, and no one takes it, so Vaughn parts his lips, closes his eyes, and hopes for the best. Rhys surges forward against him, tongue-first, and they end up horizontal on Rhys’s couch.

They kiss for a long few moments, mouths open against each other and hands roaming. Vaughn’s glasses end up on the floor somewhere. Shirt-tails are untucked. Necks are bared. Rhys’s collarbone makes its first appearance and Vaughn latches his mouth to it with a little more teeth than Rhys had expected from him. A hand, warm and only trembling the teeniest bit with excitement, finally grazes the crease of Rhys’s slacks only to find a seam and a dead giveaway of damp heat.

"Okay, so, uh. There’s that. That’s a thing. That’s a thing I have."

He could keep going but Vaughn dives back in to kiss him, which has the happy coincidences of both shutting him up and flopping them backwards so Vaughn isn’t crushed underneath him. Rhys’s shirt gets gradually pulled off, and under his pectorals he’s got two very faint white scars, almost impossible to see if you didn’t know what you were looking at. Vaughn looks up at him for permission, gets a little nod, runs his fingers through Rhys’s triangle of chest hair. Trails across to a nipple and sees it harden under his touch, still sensitive. “Yeah, they still feel pretty good,” Rhys says and smiles at him. _Please be okay with this_. Vaughn smiles back, beaming like a nerdy little ray of sunshine.

Rhys gets the rest of his pants down his legs, lets Vaughn pauses only long enough to laugh and say “of course” to his gray Hyperion boxer briefs, then those are across the room. Before Rhys manages to say anything, Vaughn’s head is between his legs. Green eyes dart up to make sure he’s not being presumptive, and Rhys just nods like his head is going to come off if he doesn’t, yes yes yes fuck yes. Vaughn hasn’t shaved in a couple of days, and the feeling of stubble along the soft, pale flesh of his inner thighs makes his heart pound. He works his whole mouth across Rhys’s junk, and what he might lack in technique he makes up for with ebullient enthusiasm. Rhys is a little transfixed by the sight of his normal nerd-parted hair all mussed, his eyebrows scrunched together in that thing he does when he’s really concentrating on something, and he wants so much to grind down and fuck his cute little mouth.

Really he could let him do this forever. He could look down at the lock of hair hanging in the middle of his friend’s forehead, lank with a thin sheen of sweat, all night, until Vaughn’s jaw wears out and they could just get his vibrator out and go for fucking broke. Everything feels perfect but fuzzy, until suddenly he gets caught up in the rhythm of Vaughn’s fingers stroking his labia and his tongue across his swollen clit, and the realization that he’s finally doing this, here and now, and then the whole thing comes into bright, clear focus, and he’s so, so close.

"Fingers. Please."

He’s so slick now there’s no resistance at all, two of Vaughn’s fingers sliding into him and crooking, trying to find the spot to focus on. Vaughn pulls his face back and lets his thumb press his clit, and the second his middle finger finds his g-spot Rhys is coming, soaking the cushions and Vaughn’s hand up to his skinny little wrist. He lets himself chase the feeling for a minute, grinding up into a wet palm with a broken moan. Vaughn looks like he desperately wants to kiss him but can’t reach, so Rhys wriggles down a bit and lets him. Normally he’s not a fan of the taste of himself but off of his best friend’s mouth it is stupefyingly hot; Vaughn’s tongue slips past his lips to flick against his and he feels like he’s on fucking fire. _Screw it, here goes_.

"I want you to fuck me," he says, sharp and sudden, grabbing Vaughn’s hand and putting it to his cunt to communicate exactly what he means.

"Are you sure? W-We don’t have to - " "Yeah, come on, get up here," he cuts him off and practically picks the little guy up and hauls him into his lap. Rhys takes a second to get a good look downwards, and Vaughn’s actually a little bigger than anything he’s bought for himself, since he tends to gravitate towards more interpretive, less anatomically realistic toys. Rhys hasn’t interacted with a dick in a while, and he takes a self-indulgent second to get his hand around it and give him a rough pull from base to tip. Vaughn practically _weeps_ for shit’s sake, and it would be hilarious if his cheeks weren’t bright red and his dick wasn’t so hard it looked painful. Rhys shimmies down a bit to line himself up, and Vaughn doesn’t need to be told twice, so as soon as Rhys gets his hand out of the way Vaughn’s got the head pressing up against, and then into, Rhys’s soaked cunt.

"Oh _god_ , you feel amazing," Vaughn says, quiet and reverent, and yeah that is 100% mutual. He’s always extra tight and super sensitive after an orgasm, not to mention much easier to get off, and the feeling of Vaughn pushing into him almost puts him over again. There’s a bit of that discomfort of being stretched, but it melts immediately into the hot throb of being filled. As soon as he’s sheathed, Rhys pulls back his hips and a look of worry crosses Vaughn’s face, thinking that he’s hurt him somehow. It immediately dissipates when Rhys snaps them back and hisses with pleasure. Vaughn lets him fuck himself for a few seconds before he gets his hands under Rhys’s bony ass for leverage and takes over for him, slow and slightly unsteady, his breath hitching in time with his hips. It’s still enough for Rhys, just the feeling of the head of his cock angled up against his g-spot. He clenches his thighs together and he’s coming again, pulsing around Vaughn’s dick. Vaughn drops his forehead onto Rhys’s chest, moaning like he’s been shot. "This isn’t - I’m not gonna last much longer," his friend manages between gasping breaths, and starts to pull away. "No, do it, please, I want you to," he gets out, all at once, so in a hurry to say it that it comes out jumbled. Vaughn puts his arms around him and pulls him as close as he can, pushing his face into his chest hair and groaning. His thrusts are disjointed and rhythmless but Rhys wants them anyway, tilting his hips up to get him as deep as he can. One more long gutteral sound and Vaughn is coming, a gush of hot and wet inside him that makes Rhys dizzy.

There’s a long, quiet stretch of moment where nothing outside of the couch exists. Everything is warm and heavy and they reek of sex, and the couch cushions are ruined for sure. Vaughn pulls out, reluctantly, sighing, and is boneless on top of him. He can feel him breathing, heavy and labored, into his breastbone. Rhys’s pulse pounds in his ears, in his cunt, in the place under his friend’s head.

"Can we do this again?" Rhys finally says, poking Vaughn’s freckled shoulder. "What, now? Um, I need like thirty minutes and a nap, at least." Vaughn mumbles weakly, and Rhys laughs. "No, no, like, all the time. I mean, can we do this more than once or are we going to have to wait another 3 years?"

"Oh. Well, yeah. You’re gonna be the boss by then right? I can just come to your office and we can lock the door and we can do whatever the fuck we want," Vaughn lifts his head to lopsidedly grin at him. Rhys just winks.


End file.
